


(the moments when you’re in so deep) it feels easier to just swim down

by xoalenko (spacebarista)



Series: if it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Female Character of Color, Fluff and Angst, Miscarriage, Post-Reaper War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 18:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5938413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebarista/pseuds/xoalenko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over and Shannon Shepard wants what will make Kaidan happy. But it's not that simple, and there's a lot of pain for the both of them before they both get what they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(the moments when you’re in so deep) it feels easier to just swim down

**Author's Note:**

> My RP partner had requested a fic about my Shepard, who was featured in my fic "To Bind" ( [here is a cap of her](http://imgur.com/y9lQMY8), but her RL FC=Nicole Beharie) and Kaidan, centering around the couple bringing "baby shenko" home. Discussions on the topic led to her not being their first pregnancy. The fic was pretty (but not fully) inspired by the song ["It's Quiet Uptown"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cqNzlU7S8zw) from the musical Hamilton, which is also where the title comes from. However it's from Shan's point of view so much of what is similar is only implied. I also left in that silly name thing where the parents talk about how any name can be used against their kid because you know I'm wild like that.
> 
> Anyway I'm super nervous about it so I REALLY hope y'all like it! Please like it.

I don’t pretend to know

The challenges we’re facing

I know there’s no replacing what we’ve lost

And you need time

But I’m not afraid

I know who I married

Just let me stay here by your side

That would be enough

~ “It’s Quiet Uptown”, _Hamilton_ (Lin-Manuel Miranda)

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“I’m pregnant.”

 

Words that should be said with joy and elation had instead been muttered with trepidation. Fear. With wringing hands and chewed lip. It should have been a cause for celebration. She had wanted to. To celebrate. To jump into his arms, kiss him as many times as they both could take, tell him how much she loves him and how happy she is. But she couldn’t. It had been too hard.

 

It had been the third time she’d made such an announcement.

 

Yet they still had no children.

 

Most of her life, children hadn’t been a priority. Hadn’t even been a thought. She was a soldier. An orphan with no family or home and a galaxy to protect. Too much on shoulders so young. Then Saren revealed the Reapers and any thought she could have had for a future took a backseat. She’d died. She’d come back for another suicide mission. Sat in Alliance custody for six months. Fought in—and survived—an unwinnable war against a near invincible, ageless enemy. Children didn’t fit at all, nor did the _thought_ of them. Yet, in the midst of all that, she fell in love with one of the best men humanity had to offer. And she’d wanted the children _he’d_ hoped for in the peace they both nearly died for.

 

They had lost their first two before they’d even been born.

 

Both times, she’d blamed herself. Of course, it had to have been her fault. They’d been in _her_ body. The first time, she had questioned herself mercilessly. What had she done wrong? Had she eaten something she shouldn’t have? Drink something? Had she pushed herself too hard? Not taken well enough care of the life growing inside her, the hopeful symbol of a future for her and Kaidan?

 

Kaidan had stayed true to his promise. He had been her strength through it all, as promised. He’d taken care of her and encouraged her and loved her… never pushing. He had restored her hope. It had reminded her of why she’s fallen for him in the first place. His unwavering faith in her. In just a few months, she’d been ready to try again, and he’d waited for her okay.

 

It had worked. She’d shyly told him as they stargazed in the orchard. His smile renewed her hope that she wouldn’t fail again.

 

She did.

 

They lost another.

 

This time, her recovery had been much, much slower. She hid away in one of the guest rooms. There was more sadness in his eyes than before. She couldn’t handle letting him down again. He wanted kids. She knew it. It wasn’t that she _didn’t_ , Kaidan just did _more_. And her inability to carry not one, but _two_ children to term…

 

So she hid from him. From his warmth, his kind—sad—eyes, the love and support she craved but didn’t think she deserved. Couldn’t handle. She could hear him sit outside her door many times. Whenever he could. He left her food, notes, treats… she didn’t deserve any of it. Especially when treating him like this. When she couldn’t give him anything in return. When she couldn’t stomach the look in his eyes. So she stayed. Did exercises, read, fielded calls from Garrus, Tali, and Liara, stared out the window. She took walks when Kaidan was at work, ran through the orchard, gathered more things to keep her mind occupied. It didn’t stop her from thinking about them. About him.

 

One night, almost three months after her miscarriage, she’d snuck out for a drink. Kaidan should have been in bed. In _their_ bed. It would have been safer, then. But as she’d crossed through the warm den she’d come to love so much, she found her husband on the more comfortable sofa. Fast asleep. There hadn’t been any evidence that he’d fallen asleep doing something—the remote sat on the other side of the room, no datapads or books in sight.

 

How long had Kaidan been sleeping in the den? How many nights had she so badly wanted to avoid him that she hadn’t realized he wasn’t sleeping in their room either? Her eyes had itched, and before she knew it, she was pushing him back, curling against him and sobbing into his neck. He’d said nothing once the fog of sleep had cleared. He simply held her, fingers brushing through her hair as she cried. Apologies poured from her lips. He’d shushed her, gently, until she fell asleep in his arms.

 

Kaidan’s easy forgiveness was like a balm on her soul. He told her over a large breakfast that he knew she’d come around. He’d been worried about her, but not enough to push. She wished she could tell him how much his confidence in her meant.

 

“I’m sorry I let you down, Kaidan,” she’d muttered to her French toast. His coffee mug froze halfway to his lips. Eyebrows drew together in concern. Before she could say anything else, he’d laid his large, warm hand on hers. A glint of platinum—a match to one on her own hand—greeted her when she looked down at it.

 

“You could never let me down, Shan. _Never_. We’ll figure something out.”

 

She moved back into their bedroom the next night.

 

It took over a month more until she was ready to be intimate with him again.

 

Another two until she was ready to try again.

 

Three months later: “I’m pregnant.” No fanfare, no thrill, no celebration. Just sheer nerves and fear and “expect the worst”.

 

Kaidan hugged her, kissed her hair. Held her like she was his anchor, not the other way around. He was her reason to hope again. But she quickly realized she didn’t just want it for him anymore. She wanted it too. She always had, even if she thought not. To have her own family again. And that was why it hurt so much to fail. She wouldn’t fail this time.

 

As months passed, fear evolved into excitement. Disappointment into hope. Pessimism to optimism. She bought a crib.

 

Thoughts of alternative methods didn’t stop. She still looked into orphanages, new and filled with war orphans. She still looked into treatments, into surrogates. Sometimes with her silent sentinel, many times alone. Just in case. She painted the closest spare room the dark blue of twilight.

 

They asked doctors about worst case scenarios. They baby-proofed the house. They gently refused to learn the sex, the spare room filled with furniture. They didn’t discuss names, they put up a space-themed mobile. They didn’t have a baby shower, their Normandy crew showered them with gifts anyway. The sheer joy they feel when it kicked was still accompanied by the question of how long it would last.

 

But they still hoped.

 

Now, Shannon sits in the skycar, taking deep breaths. Her hand rests on her stomach. Her eyes are trained on the building through the windshield. Nerves keep her seated. The windows seem to gaze expectantly at her. _What are you waiting for?_ they ask. What is the great Commander Shepard—who defended Elysium on her shore leave, who saved the Citadel from a Reaper invasion, went through the Omega Relay to stop the Collectors and came back to tell the tale, and saved the galaxy from the Reapers—so afraid of?

 

Failing. Again. Only… this time—

 

A knock on her window jolts her out of her head. She sees his shadow across her lap before she looks up at the gently smiling face of her husband. He points at the glass, then turns his finger down to point at the ground. Shannon nods, rolls down the window.

 

Kaidan’s fingers wrap around the lip of the window as he leans his head in just to be closer to her.

 

“You alright?” His voice is gentle, steady. Doesn’t he feel the way she does? Part of her hopes he doesn’t. Someone should be strong for this. Shannon opens her mouth to answer but nothing comes out. She looks away from him. Warm, rough fingers find her chin, tilt her head back up. His reassuring smile makes her heart lighter.

 

“I’m fine,” she answers, stronger than she thought she’d be. “I’m just—”

 

“Nervous?”

 

“Aren’t _you_?”

 

Kaidan goes quiet, looks in the same direction she had been. Then behind her. A chuckle escapes him before his brown eyes meet hers.

 

“Of course I am, Shan,” he admits, brushing his thumb over her lip. “I’m nervous as hell. But we’ve come this far. And we’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

 

Shannon studies his face. The dusting of white at his temples have evolved into small streaks. There are more lines at the corners of his eyes than she remembers. Even his beard has touches of white in it. But his eyes are almost the same as they’d been a few years shy of ten years ago. Yes. He’s waited long enough.

 

And so has she.

 

“So. You ready, Shepard?”

 

She smiles back at him. “Ready when you are, Alenko.”

 

Once she’s rolled up the window, Kaidan graciously opens the door, holds a hand out to help her up. She needs it more than she’d care to admit. He closes the door and moves to the back. Waiting as he fiddles around, Shannon wrings her hands, breathing deep. Staying calm. Finally, he straightens. In his arms is a slightly squirming bundle he carefully passes to her.

 

Shannon can’t stop her smile at the wriggling weight in her grip. Their daughter is beautiful. Skin lighter than her mother’s, yet darker than her father’s. A smattering of dark curls decorate her head under the soft white cap the nurses had slipped on her. Shannon thinks she looks like Kaidan, Kaidan thinks she looks like Shannon, and Garrus has informed them that she really just looks squishy. They’ll know soon enough who the little one takes after. If she has an ounce of her father’s strength, resilience, and hope… then Shannon could care less who she looks like.

 

“Hey there, sweetie,” she coos at the stirring infant, rocking her as Kaidan retrieves her things. Her stay at the hospital had been the most anxious since her test came back positive. Tali, who had come to Earth with Garrus to assist the couple until Kaidan’s parents could return, had informed her that her husband had spent his hours at home practically crawling up the walls and nitpicking the baby’s finished room. It had been a relief to all four of them when she was released.

 

She’d have to make it up to Tali and Garrus somehow.

 

When Kaidan finally appears at her elbow, duffle over his shoulder and bag of remaining gifts in his arms, Shannon takes a break and makes her way to the front door. He dodges ahead of her to open it, earning him an eyeroll. And a smile. But something stops her at the entrance, and she has to breathe to steady herself, her heart. Kaidan simply waits. He understands. His nerves may seem of steel, but he’s just as timid as she. He just holds the door instead of waiting at it. And shows her he’ll wait as long as she does. She takes one more breath.

 

And steps inside.

 

The world doesn’t crash down. The house is in one piece. The baby still in her arms. She doesn’t wake up. It’s real. It’s _finally_ real. Shannon wanders into the living room proper, vaguely hearing Kaidan shut the door, sit the bags down.

 

“Well,” she starts, eyes never leaving the small, sleepy face. “This is it. Welcome home, Addy.”

 

Adelyn Roisin Alenko. Kaidan had chosen her first name, Shannon her second. Kaidan had been hesitant about naming her for anyone, so they hadn’t. Their first child. And—despite everything she’d said in the birthing room—hopefully not their last. She feels a solid warmth against her back, lips pressing to her temple. She tilts her head, smiling, to catch his eyes. His smile matches hers and she can’t help but kiss him. They’ve finally done it. They’ve finally made a family.

 

The couple puts Addy to bed, unpacks the bags, and collapses on the on the couch to await Garrus, Tali, and dinner. They lie there for about five minutes when Shannon hums sleepily into Kaidan’s neck.

 

“Kaidan?”

 

“Yes, love?”

 

“I just realized something.” She’s missed the smell of him (soap, a hint of aftershave, and something distinctly metallic), but that’s not it.

 

He chuckles. It could be at either her declaration or her nuzzling behind his ear. “What?”

 

“Adelyn Alenko.”

 

“Is a lovely name. I know.”

 

“Well, yeah, but… her initials are A. A.”

 

“So?”

 

Shannon sits up, pressing a hand into his chest for leverage. Kaidan groans. Waiting for him to unscrew his face and look up at her, she fixes him with a serious stare.

 

“Kaidan. Alcoholics Anonymous.”

 

He blinks up at her. For a few long moments, silence reigns. They stare at each other. Kaidan looks vaguely confused, brows drawn together. Shannon is expectant. Her fingers tap on his chest as she waits. Finally, his head tips back as a hearty laugh escapes him. Shannon gapes in indignation, and he pulls her back down against his rumbling chest.

 

“ _Relax_ , Shan.”

 

“Kaidan, other kids could call her that! Pick on her!”

 

“You’re worrying too much. No one is going to pick on her,” he sighs, fingers threading through her hair. “She’s perfect.”

 

He says it so matter-of-factly. It takes a moment for Kaidan’s words to sink in. Yes. Addy is _perfect_. Perfect in every way. Because she’s _theirs_. They _made_ her. It had taken time. A lot of time and a lot of heartbreak. But they’d done it. They’d make a perfect little girl. Fighting a war seems almost easier, now. And the victory had been nowhere near as satisfying as knowing she has a little piece of her and Kaidan to love, hold, and raise is. No victory is.

 

Smiling, Shannon resumes her former position, buries her face in his neck.

 

“You’re right,” she whispers, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “And… Kaidan?”

 

He hums an acknowledgement she feels as much as she hears.

 

“Thank you. For not giving up on me.”

 

It’s a long, quiet moment before he finally replies.

 

“I’ll never give up on you, Shannon.” He tilts his head to kiss her forehead, holding her a little tighter. “Now. Get some sleep before Garrus and Tali get here. It’ll be the last quiet bit of rest for a while.”

 

Shannon snuggles into him. Closes her eyes. He’s right. But even if she never sleeps again, she’ll be happy. She finally has a family again, after close to twenty years without her own. And she’s never letting them go.

 

Four years later, as Kaidan lies on his stomach coloring with a larger, more talkative, still perfect Addy, Shannon joins them and sits on the floor beside him. She leans down, kisses his hair and drapes herself over his shoulders. She feels and hears his content hum as he leans up into her touch, still smiling at their daughter. But soon, warm brown eyes meet soft, darker ones. Her smile grows. She leans close to his ear, lets her lips brush against his skin.

 

“I’m pregnant.”

 

It’s said with teasing joy. Elation.

 

Happiness.

 


End file.
